


Serendipity

by venom_for_free



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, Canon Compliant, Dom/sub, Domestic, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Humor, Improvised Sex Toys, Kinks, Light-Hearted, Love, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sensation Play, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25751068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Serendipity (noun)Origin: English | ser·en·dip·i·tyFinding something good without looking for it.--or: Yuri and Otabek moved into a new home, finally together. After all this stress, Yuri has specific ideas on how to unwind. But sadly, their toys are still stuck in the posting process, so what are they supposed to do now? Otabek finds unconventional solutions to sate Yuri's wishes.(BDSM themed and centered around improvised playing.)
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Surka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surka/gifts).



> Hello Friends!  
> Finally, the fic that ran away with me is here - written for the amazing Surka.  
> The prompt was slightly different, so I hope you forgive me for what I did with this, but I hope it is still enjoyable for you. 
> 
> Note: Otabek calls Yuri "Yurka" in between. That is not a spelling error but an intimate, Russian diminutive of Yuri, like Yura (informal) and Yurochka (cute) are. Maybe you read "Vitenka" in some fics, which is the version for Viktor. 
> 
> And just because I feel like it is my task to educate people on the matter when I write something that might encourage unsafe behavior, here we go: 
> 
> Whether you're playing alone or with a partner, be careful. Make sure to read up on what you are doing. Fanfic is NOT a reliable source of playing information. I try to keep mine as close as possible to reality, but I can't guarantee that for others. Play safe. Dangers exist with improvised sex toys. Always try something on your own body before trying it on others, learn how to spank safely, study basic knots and binds, have medical scissors ready just in case, and make sure your toys are clean! Always include aftercare in all your sessions.

“Beka?” Otabek looked up from the book in his hands. He didn’t put it aside just yet. Yuri knew he would need more to capture his attention over longer periods once he actually fell into a story, which was why he immediately continued. “Can we play?” He knew the question was weird. Especially now, especially out of nowhere. And just how weird was easily discernible from the confused look Otabek gave him. Yuri sat up a little more, dragging his legs off of Otabek’s lap. He cocked his head to the side, doing his best to look cute. “Can we play?” 

Maybe saying it twice would help Otabek understand. 

“Uhhhh …” 

Maybe not. 

Yuri sat up as straight as their sofa would allow and leaned forward, a finger touched to Otabek’s arm. “ _I_ , as in me, as in your boyfriend, _would like_ , which is a word to describe what you want to do and to emphasize what one desires, _to play_ , which means to interact on a playful level or in a teasing manner, _with you_ , Otabek Altin.” Maybe an in-depth explanation would help. 

“Yeah. I caught that. It’s just … we don’t really have the means, do we?” 

Yuri groaned. Why did he have to remind him of that? “Yeah. I guess. But … You’re clever. You can find a way, right?” He knew Otabek was stubborn and stoic, but those traits could be used to Yuri’s advantage if he pushed the right lever. “Pleeeeeease?” Also, begging never hurt anyone. 

After all, it was not _Yuri’s_ fault they were stuck without any toys. 

When they finally moved in together after years of traveling between Almaty and Saint Petersburg, Yuri was sure he couldn’t have been happier. Overall, he still stood by that statement, but there was one thing missing that he would like to get back. Their toy box. 

During the last few years, Yuri lived with Lilia, so keeping any kind of play utensils and toys in Russia had simply not been a possibility. Everything they owned was in Almaty, hidden in a taped box they refused to touch during their official move. Too many friends, nosy people, kids around. There was no way Yuri would risk someone ending up with a chain of anal beads in their hands when they tried to help unpack. 

So it went into a storage box and stayed there until a week ago. Most of their new joint home was prepared and set up now, so the chances of people spontaneously opening boxes were much smaller. Otabek asked a trusted friend to send the toys over once they agreed on it. Of course, without informing him of the contents. But right now, it was stuck somewhere between countries in a postal office. Yuri knew because, yeah, maybe he was tracking the box obsessively. So what? 

But it just made him antsier to know it was _close_ but still so far away. Sure, they could buy new stuff. He tried to convince Otabk of that, too. Though that only caused a long discussion about sustainability and responsibility towards the planet and their ecological footprint. Yuri knew he was right, he did, but he also really desperately wanted his animal print handcuffs. 

Not that it mattered much right now, anyway. There was not much playing going on when they dropped half-dead onto bed after an entire day of building furniture, cleaning, decorating, and unpacking. This was their first actual evening off. And Yuri was getting a little excited. But then, Otabek picked up a book and buried himself in the story, a bunch of snacks, and a blanket. Yuri was a tolerated guest in his pillow fort of coziness, but he wanted more.

After weeks of not playing and barely touching, Yuri had enough. And now it would be Otabek’s task to figure out how to approach this. “Find a way. You managed in Lilia’s apartment just fine the week she was in Paris.” 

Otabek seemed skeptical, if Yuri interpreted his eyebrow twitch correctly. “That was … born from desperation and the fact that we knew we wouldn’t see each other for three months afterward.” 

“Yeah. But you made it work.” Was it such a hard concept to understand? Otabek sighed, but Yuri elbowed him lightly. “Look around. We have even more possibilities here. This is our house, the neighbors are fucking far away, and we have no kids to listen in. The world is ours.” 

“I would still prefer to wait.” 

The fucking boring idiot. Yuri huffed and dropped back against the sofa, his feet returning to Otabek’s lap. He took his phone in hand and scrolled through Instagram. Sometimes, submission meant accepting not getting his way. 

But half an hour later, he had to remove his feet again. Without explanation, Otabek stood up and walked off. Yuri would ask where he was going, but the answers were limited in a shared house. The toilet. The shower. The fridge. Otabek wouldn’t go to sleep without saying good night and he wouldn’t leave the house without announcing he was doing so. 

Which was why, after 25 minutes, Yuri got curious. He unburied himself from the blankets he snatched as soon as Otabek abandoned them, and stood up. His legs hurt, so he shook them out. Maybe the crooked cuddle position on the goddamn new couch hadn’t been the answer after all, but how was he supposed to know when they hadn’t had the chance to test it yet? 

Just when he reached the door to the hallway, Otabek turned the corner of the bedroom. Yuri was given a disappointed look, so without knowing what he did wrong, he turned and slinked back to the sofa. Why was Otabek in the bedroom? And why was he not—ooooooooooh. 

Yuri beamed and hurried back to the sofa, where he undressed completely. He hid under the covers again, then pulled the clothes between the blankets, too, so Otabek wouldn’t see them once he came in. Which happened ten minutes later. Yuri did his best to look busy on his phone when his partner leaned over the backrest and kissed his neck. 

“You have to ruin every surprise for yourself, don’t you?” Otabek’s voice was silk, deep in a way it only ever got for Yuri. He heard amusement underneath the accusation, so Yuri smiled when he turned his head. 

What he found was just as breathtaking as every other time. Otabek—his Otabek, his very own boyfriend—in the leather jacket he didn’t need inside because their home was warm. But he knew it made Yuri weak, so there it was, almost casually draped over a black shirt tight enough to showcase every muscle of his strong abdomen. That shirt was only for their bedroom. Otabek wasn’t allowed to wear it for anything else. Not because Yuri had any way of prohibiting him from doing so but because it got him buck wild. And after an embarrassing dinner date, where Otabek had to pry Yuri off himself when his lover tried to climb onto him in the middle of a cinema, he gave himself that restriction. But now it was back, the shirt of sins and not-so-hidden desires. 

Yuri thanked the god he did not believe in that it wasn’t in the toy box. 

His eyes barely reached the tight, form-fitting pants Otabek was too self-conscious to wear in the outside world when Yuri’s chin was gently guided upwards. He did not mind having to stare at Otabek’s abs again. 

When his gaze finally landed on his lover’s eyes, Yuri began to smile lazily. It was amazing, the effect a few well-selected clothes and a chin-grab had on him. But seeing Otabek’s clouded gaze, so full of promises and dirty secrets … that was what really did him in. 

“Will you take me to bed now?” 

Otabek hummed and let go of Yuri, but only to round the sofa. For a moment, he tried to peel him out of the animal print cocoon, but eventually, Otabek simply grabbed the whole bundle and carried him bridal style into the bedroom. Yuri giggled until a shirt fell out. One long look from his boyfriend, first at the article of clothing and then at him. Yuri enjoyed the heat creeping along his cheeks. Humiliation could be amazing if it happened under the right circumstances. 

“You’re naked in there, aren’t you?” 

More heat, and Yuri bit his lip. He failed to look sorry because he really wasn’t. “I couldn’t wait for you.” 

“So you thought you would surprise me instead?” 

“Did it work?” 

Otabek smirked and carried him over the threshold. If Yuri ever got married, he wanted it to happen in a gown of leopard print blankets, thrown over him to hide his naked body. It felt amazing. But he guessed Nikolai wouldn’t be the biggest fan. And Yuri wasn’t the biggest fan of thinking about his grandfather right as he was about to get nailed, so he did his best to force his thoughts away. 

Their bedroom looked almost as messy as before, but he could see Otabek made an effort. Blankets were properly put over the bed, candles stood on their one and a half nightstands—Yuri’s still had no drawer. There were napkins, lube, and a pair of scissors. It wasn’t the usual kind of medial fabric scissors they would use, but that was to be expected since it was lost with the rest. 

Yuri was dropped onto the bed, not thoughtlessly, but also not in any pampering manner. Otabek’s hands were swift and careful as they worked the sheets off the warm, writhing body. It had clearly been too long. Yuri was tense and hard enough to whimper already. And Otabek had barely touched him. 

The sheets landed on the floor, along with the clothes Yuri hid in the bulk of fabric. He was exposed now, and oh god, did it feel nice. Being naked for someone who was fully dressed was an experience Yuri loved dearly. He tried to lean up, wanted to steal a kiss, but Otabek grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down. Gently, but with determination. Yuri’s back tingled, his spine itched. He squirmed more, trying to press his lower body upright and chase some of the pressure Otabek could provide him with, but the cruel grin on his partner’s face told him in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t get any of that anytime soon.

Instead, Otabek worked his hands up Yuri’s arms, then grabbed the thin, bony wrists in one of his large palms. He squeezed them together, reached behind himself, and brought his hand back to secure them. Before Yuri could even think about protesting, his wrists were bound together, tight enough to hinder him from slipping out but not so tight it would cut off circulation. 

After all those years, Otabek knew what he was doing. 

“Zip ties, huh?” Yuri smirked, bratty as always. 

“You will encounter a few things that usually serve a different purpose. But you wanted me to get creative.” That was a lot of words for Otabek, but the way his eyes seemed to melt in warm brown and gold … Yuri wondered if he rehearsed the sentence. There was no way any human could improvise such a sweet-dripping voice while pinning down their naked, bucking partner. Not while sounding so eloquent and in control. The twitch between Yuri’s legs made Otabek grin wider. “You really missed me, didn’t you?” 

Just when Yuri wanted to answer, Otabek reached into his jacket and pulled out a black tie. Yuri’s mouth was frozen half-opened in wonder, so Otabek finished the stretch with his thumb and pointer finger before he gently pushed the tie in. Yuri was tempted to ask if he talked too much, just because he knew his muffled voice would sound hot and breathy, but not talking was even better because if he was good, Otabek would reward him. So instead, he smiled as best as he could around the fabric and nodded. 

Yeah. Oh god, yeah. He had missed this. 

“Be good and stay still.” Otabek leaned back, just a bit, to see if Yuri would fight him for dominance and try to wiggle away. Not that he ever succeeded; Otabek knew how to keep him in check, and they both knew Yuri didn’t really want to succeed. But sometimes, he felt the need to struggle a little, just because the drop into submission would be so much sweeter once he eventually allowed himself to let go. Although, today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he wanted to please, to appeal, to make Otabek proud, and in the end, to get fucked hard enough so he would have an excuse not to work on any moving stuff the following day. 

Once he was convinced Yuri would work with him, not against him, Otabek leaned back completely. For a moment, all he did was watch. He looked down at his partner, affection dripping from every pore. “You were right. We haven’t done this in far too long. Look how desperate you are. How much you need me.” He cupped Yuri’s cheek, who in turn whined around the gag. Being needy was one thing, but having it pointed out was an entirely different feeling. Yuri’s chest warmed with embarrassment, desire, humiliation, and love. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” 

How was he supposed to keep a clear head when Otabek said shit like that? He wasn’t. Not at all. Yuri knew that and still, it got him, hitting like a truck whenever they played. One moment he was lucid, the next he was woozy with excitement and affection. 

Otabek was leaning off the bed, oblivious to Yuri’s pleasant discomfort, before his head bobbed back up. He straightened his back. Yuri loved it when he did that. It looked so serious. He had his game face on, without a doubt. The glint in his eyes betraying his blank mask. Yuri could see what he was holding but didn’t understand. 

It looked like one of the brushes Otabek would use to clean his beloved bike. That was stuck in shipping, too. Yuri missed it dearly, but the rental he was driving right now wasn’t too bad either. Soon, Yuri’s thoughts were forced off of the motorcycle in question when he focused on the prospect of playing again. He didn’t know yet what Otabek was up to with the brush, but Yuri trusted him fully.

A moment later, he was flipped around, resting on his tummy. Otabek helped him squirm into a comfortable position. Yuri saw the tiny, comfortable smile tugging on his lips. He loved being in control, it was quite obvious for those who knew what to look out for. Which worked well because Yuri loved being dominated. By the right person. Which _his Beka_ was.

A strong arm curled under Yuri’s tummy and pulled him back, causing him to slide across the sheets. The soft glide against his skin was nice, but what was even nicer was the feeling of having his ass presented, high in the air, and proud. All the strong muscles in there were a work of art. Yuri put a lot of effort into his body. Otabek admiring him like that made something proud and possessive in his chest preene. Only his boyfriend would ever see him like this. It was special between them, and Yuri loved it. 

He jerked a little when two hot palms cupped his ass out of nowhere. Yuri should have seen it coming, really, but his mind was foggy and thinking was hard when Otabek kneaded his ass like a fine piece of dough. His hands wandered over Yuri’s skin, trailing warm patterns against the pliant body. Over his back, his arms, his thighs, and his ass again. Otabek mapped out his flesh, sometimes lingered on freckles or tiny moles he kissed. It tickled enough for Yuri to want to squirm away and press right into it, all at the same time. Then, there were the nails. Short and clean, Otabek paid so much attention to his hands. They scratched thin red lines into Yuri’s willing skin, eliciting more needy noises. 

  
Yuri had no shame in whining for attention, not if it was his lover he demanded it from. Not if his pleasure was so deeply connected to the two of them being linked in a way most people would never understand. Yuri loved every bit of Otabek. The nails scratching him, the fingertips tickling his sensitive sides, the palms cupping Yuri’s full ass and marking it as Otabek’s with deft spanks until he was all fire and animal. And that was only his hands. Otabek was so much more than just a bunch of strong muscles and right touches. But all too soon, those claiming fingers were gone. 

Yuri turned over his shoulder, wanting to know what it was that claimed Otabek's attention like this. He was greeted with the sight of his boyfriend picking up the previously discarded brush again. It was clean and new, according to the smell. Lacquer, plastic, disinfectant. Even if he wanted to ask what Otabek planned with it, he couldn't. The tie rendered him useless when it came to speaking. But it didn’t matter. Yuri trusted him blindly. 

One moment he was wondering, the next he curled into the touch. Otabek pulled the brush gently over his back, setting Yuri’s nerves alight. The sensation was new and had him questioning why they never used those damn things before. There was a gentle drag where the bristles caught his skin. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to scratch. Yuri moaned around the gag. Somehow, the muffled sound was even more obscene to his ears. 

Otabek was clearly experimenting, the brush gliding up and down, swirling, drawing lazy patterns only he knew, testing the waters before he pressed the bristles down harder. It was still not enough to damage the skin, but the warmth left behind told Yuri it was getting his blood moving. 

Good. Warmed up skin bruised less, hurt less, took less damage in general. Otabek’s plan was working. Not that Yuri would have been able to follow that thought process with such an eloquent explanation. He was mush, happily smiling about the warmth kissing his back red. It was even better when Otabek brought out a second brush, the bristles a little harder, working over the patterns he made in the beginning. Yuri relaxed into the caress of the bristles, even if it left him wanting, tense and soft at the same time. 

“How is this?”

Oh god, was he supposed to speak like an actual human being? Yuri groaned, hoping it would do the job, but all it did was make Otabek retreat the brush and stop his little playing. It was always like that. He wanted clear answers to clear questions, and Yuri loved and hated him for it. “Green.” The word was much harder to say than he would have liked, but here he was, trying to mumble colors through a cloth with his mind foggy enough to ruin the task on its own. 

Otabek hummed, content with his answer. “More, then?” 

Yuri nodded. More was always nice. Well, not always, but when things felt as good as that, then yes, it was amazing. 

Otabek leaned off the bed again, shuffling around in a linen bag filled with whatever he had gathered to use today. Eventually, he resurfaced, holding something long and soft. Once he came closer, Yuri recognized it as a scarf. He smirked around the soggy tie and raised his head, turning it towards Otabek in anticipated obedience. A scarf as a blindfold wasn’t new to him, even with the money to buy actual, fancy toys. They worked just fine and half of the time, sex shop blindfolds didn’t do half as good a job. The material was thin and soft, gently caressing Yuri’s face as Otabek wrapped it around him with all the love and care in the world. Then, the knot behind his head was tightened, and Yuri groaned when Otabek caught a strand of hair in it. His lover laughed softly and left it as it was. Yuri grumbled a little about the discomfort, but the reminder of who was in charge was welcome, nonetheless. With his eyes bound, the sensations felt even hotter, even more intense, tickling him to his core. 

“You are such a beautiful creature, Yuri Plisetsky.” Otabek kissed him between his shoulder blades, leaning over Yuri’s tingling, naked body, and all he wanted was to press back and offer himself even more. But Otabek gasped once Yuri rolled his shoulders and traced his hand over the thin, elegant neck. “Yurka. Where is your collar?” 

And Yuri wanted to curse because fuck. He knew where it was, and Otabek wouldn’t like it. He didn’t like it, either, but all the swearing and screaming wouldn’t get the people on the border to hurry their shipping process. Yuri growled deep in his throat, discontent with the lack of restriction he hadn’t noticed until now but suddenly missed fiercely, now that Otabek had pointed it out. He began to writhe around, doing his best to notify Otabek of his discomfort with the situation. 

A hand on the small of his back steadied him. “Shhhh. Yura. Shhhh. I’ll go and find something, okay? Can I leave you alone for a moment? Can you nod or shake your head for me?” Yuri tipped his head a few times. Yes. He didn’t mind staying on his own for a few minutes if it meant getting some semblance of his collar back. He couldn’t believe they had even started without one. Normally, it was the first thing Otabek would take care of. The small of his back was kissed and Otabek checked the zip ties before he got up. “Yell if you need me,” Yuri confirmed with a nod. 

Then, the room was silent. And silence wasn’t something either of them was used to. Usually, some music would play, they would talk or make their own soundtrack of life. Yuri liked Otabek’s music best. But right now, there was no Otabek. It was just him with a gag in his mouth, his eyes hidden behind a second cloth, and his hands locked. Yuri felt naked in an entirely different version of helplessness. And while that could be fun if they agreed upon it beforehand, he understood now why Otabek had asked him if he could stay alone. 

But Yuri was nothing but not stubborn, so he moved not the smallest bit until his boyfriend returned, even though he felt exposed and wanted to cover up. It was worth it, though. Once Otabek was back, he was showered in praise, love, and backrubs. Yuri hummed and curled into the familiar warmth. Although the best thing followed a moment later when Otabek carded his fingers into Yuri’s hair and pulled back his head, exposing his throat like an animal in heat. Something silky was wrapped around his throat, the edges just the right bit rough. 

“Ribbon,” Otabek explained. He worked it around Yuri’s neck and finished it off with a bow. “It’s not the sturdiest material, but it’s better than nothing.” 

“I love it,” Yuri breathed because it was true. Not that his words were understandable without effort, but the comfortable silence between them and the backrub he got told him Otabek understood. For a moment, they rested, simply leaning against one another. Yuri forced himself to relax into the situation again, to hand himself over once more, no holds barred. 

Otabek seemed to feel when he was ready because he moved away. Yuri couldn’t tell what he was pulling out of the bag this time, but his senses were heightened, excited for the first contact with whatever object Otabek had picked to play with. As it turned out, Yuri wasn’t ready for the touch of feathers to his sides. He jerked roughly, nearly falling over because he couldn’t use his hands to balance himself. Otabek helped out, snickering. Then, the feather duster was back, gently gliding over his sides. There was no drag with this one, no tooth in the material was tugging on his skin. It was a light sensation, barely there, tickling him. 

Yuri had always been someone who enjoyed the wilder side of things, so this was a challenge for him. He giggled a few times, but it was less excitement and more tension leaving his body. Otabek, the god damn sadist, knew exactly where to tease him. 

The thin skin beneath his arms and across his rib cage. Yuri’s sides. The insides of his thighs. At the same time, Yuri wanted to moan and whimper, wanted for the touch to stop and continue. Which was exactly why Otabek did both. He trailed the feather duster in unpredictable ways over the taut muscles, actively teasing Yuri with pleasure. Eventually, he gave in. The change was noticeable. Yuri’s back dropped down, no longer arching but relaxing toward the bed, and his thighs stopped trembling. 

The feather duster disappeared, and more rustling took its place on Yuri’s index of sensations. Another toy, another way Otabek found just for him to fulfill his needs. Their needs, Yuri hoped. But from the urgency he felt in Otabek’s touch and the carefully controlled lust he had seen in his eyes, Yuri knew this was good for the both of them. 

He was surprised when instead of a new toy, the next thing he noticed was Otabek’s voice. 

“I want to spank you a little, baby. This is not a punishment, okay?” Spanking? Hell yeah. Yuri nodded as enthusiastically as his foggy brain would let him. “You don’t have to count with the gag in. Or do you want me to take it out?” Yuri shook his head. The tie was soaked through and clung to his tongue like a wet napkin, but it had been given to him by his dom and Yuri honored that. He knew it was the right decision when Otabek lovingly petted his ass.”Okay. Are you comfortable with me spanking you right now?” 

Yuri appreciated the communication. Usually, they wouldn’t need to talk so much, but with the circumstances so largely different, it couldn’t hurt to make sure both of them were fine. Once Otabek had the desired confirmation, Yuri felt something long and hard hitting his ass. 

There was no way of telling what it was. A wooden spoon, a spatula, he had no idea. But it burned and it was hard and so was Yuri, because _fuck_ , it felt good to be back under Otabek’s thumb again. Punishment spankings and reward spankings were something completely different. People who never played like this would probably not understand, but the intent behind the sensation changed everything. 

Right now, the pain was rewarding. Claiming. It told Yuri who he belonged to, who loved him, who wanted him close, and who had taken on such a complicated task just to fulfill his needs. Otabek was his descend into madness and his lifeline all at once. He couldn’t have counted even if he wanted to. The impact rocked Yuri’s world quite literally, and once Otabek realized it was a good pain day for him, he didn’t hold back anymore. 

Yuri moaned and groaned now, loud and intense enough to accidentally spit out the gag. Frantically, he leaned forward to try and find it again, to put back what was supposed to be inside his mouth, but Otabek’s hand grasped his hair and held his head back. 

“No. I want to hear you.” And alright, that was one of the sexiest things Yuri had ever been told. 

His noises doubled in frequency and intensity, not because he was faking it but because knowing Otabek wanted him to share his pleasure only increased the sensations. Fuck, being beaten with a kitchen utensil of some sort shouldn’t feel so good, but here Yuri was, sounding like a porn star in his bliss. Otabek’s hits stilled too early, but once the continuous impact sensation was gone, Yuri realized how heated and tense his skin was. He felt like a tender piece of meat. The thought made him grin. 

“What do you need?” 

The question was a surprise, but Yuri didn’t mind. At all. There was just another problem. He couldn’t talk. Not because of the gag, that was gone. But because he was too horny to get his brain to function. So instead, he made little whimpering noises and pushed his ass back, hoping Otabek would understand. A flat hand landed on the sensitive skin and for a second, Yuri saw white before the pain ebbed away into a dull pulsing sensation, and he gasped for air with a pleased smile. That was not what he wanted, but it was certainly nice, too. 

Otabek chuckled, then got up again. This time, he walked around the bed. Yuri could hear him move across the room, and even without being able to see his lover, Yuri knew he was at the nightstands, picking something up. 

Probably a butt plug. He was pretty sure it was a butt plug because that was the only toy they bought again two days after moving. It’s not like one could have too many of those anyway. His suspicion was confirmed when Otabek’s hands gently tugged his cheeks apart before a bottle cap popped open. Lube, Yuri assumed. It drizzled over the cleft of his ass, cold and familiar in the way it slid over his heated body. Calming, exciting, so many things at once, as most of the sensations they shared were. Another squirt from the bottle and Yuri was left without touch for a moment, but he couldn’t get angry about it since it was a necessity to prepare the plug he really, _really_ wanted. 

Otabek worked him open with the ease of someone knowing their partner’s body well, and Yuri was grateful they only decided to postpone the kinky activities, not sex in general, or this would have taken much longer. 

The fingers inside of him helped him focus, as weird as that sounded, with his head being otherwise complete mush. But this sensation was so distinct, so obviously them, Yuri felt quite at home with it. Even though it was intense. Even though it furthered his madness and made him burn up in all the right and wrong ways. Were there even wrong ways? He didn’t know anymore, and shit, his moment of clarity was over. For a while, he abandoned the efforts of thinking completely and only came back to himself when the plug was seated securely inside of him. Otabek’s hands caressed his burning body in a way that was taught to him as a signal to strive for more consciousness. Yuri didn’t fully resurface, he didn’t have to. But the flat palms brushed over his back and arms informed him that Otabek needed him with a little more brain power right now. 

Once he managed to blink some of the daze out of his eyes, Yuri sighed. He turned to look around, even though he couldn’t see, but it was still enough of a signal for Otabek to understand what Yuri was with him again. 

“Turn around. I want you on our back for a bit. Your ass is quite red and I don’t want you to be tender in the morning.” Yuri appreciated the extra effort Otabek put into communication. An order would have been enough and Yuri would have turned over for him like a cat in heat, but an explanation proved he valued the comfort and state of mind of his sub. Which Yuri loved fiercely about him. 

Otabek was at his chest a moment later, teasing Yuri’s rosy pink nipples that he loved to suck on, if only because it made his sub so flustered. Yuri didn’t even know why. It wasn’t that big of a deal with other types of intimacy. They shared quite a bunch of secrets and body fluids, after all, but his nipples were always sensitive, and Otabek made a point to play with them whenever he could. 

After a few moments, though, Yuri realized he was up to something because he didn’t stop once they pebbled. Usually, Otabek would relent at that point, probably scared Yuri’s squirming would cause him a head wound in the long run. But not today. He kept teasing them until they were hot and wet with saliva. When Otabek did finally lean back, his fingers stayed, tweaking the ticklish buds. And a moment later, Yuri understood why. He couldn’t tell what it was, yet again led into sensory confusion by the blindfold over his eyes, but it felt like two sticks. Maybe pencils, chopsticks, who knew. He did know, however, that they were fucking terrifying once Otabek secured what Yuri assumed was a rubber band at the top and bottom of the sticks to hold them together. 

The bastard had improvised nipple clamps. The absolute madman. The genius. Yuri was so in love, he was scared his heart would burst out of his chest like one of those gross aliens in the movies Otabek liked. 

Another few minutes passed, and after two failed attempts because Otabek was getting giddy, he managed to secure the second one. They hurt like hell, but if no one and nothing touched them, Yuri could be okay with them. But of course, Otabek kept flicking them from time to time, the sadist. In the end, Yuri cussed him out. Maybe he was a little too entitled to his pleasure, maybe he was a bit too much in his head, but he called his lover a bastard to his face, and Otabek _laughed_. As if his plan had worked. Maybe it had. Probably. If Yuri thought about it, his boyfriend rarely did anything without a purpose. 

“Looks like I get to punish you now, Yura.” Should threats sound sexy? Yuri wasn’t sure. But this one sure as fuck did with Otabek’s gentle, deep voice whispering so much more than the spoken words onto Yuri’s goosebumped skin. He nodded to show he understood. It was called playing for a reason. 

Otabek disappeared from above him, but he was back not much later, slotted between Yuri’s eagerly spread legs. Just to assert his dominance or because he liked to see Yuri shuffle around with lust, he played with the plug for a moment. Then, he leaned back to admire his lover. With years of experience under his belt, Yuri tucked his knees against his chest, exposing himself in the most primal way. But that didn’t seem to be what his lover wanted because Otabek grabbed his ankles and pulled them back down. He planted Yuri’s feet firmly on the bed, leaving his knees bent and spread. 

“Beautiful.” Maybe Yuri couldn’t see the world right now, but he was convinced Otabek would notice the flush running like wildfire across his skin whenever he was praised like that. 

It should have made Yuri suspicious. After all, this was a punishment. 

The wake-up call came a breath later when he heard a well-known scraping. A fingernail over plastic. Other fingers spinning something. The tiny almost-click the second his nails found the pressure they were looking for. Yuri could almost feel the tape being rolled in his own hands. Yuri bristled at the tell-tale ripping when Otabek pulled off a seemingly long strip of the material. He had an idea what was coming now, and if he was correct, it would be cru—

His mind paused, refused to continue the thought. Otabek was sticking the damn tape to his thigh, right over the bunch of thin, yet still very well existing hair. He even swiped his finger over the stripe, making sure the glue connected to his body as much as it could. Yuri was already hissing at the pain he knew was about to come. He had gotten his legs waxed more than once. It made sense with some costumes. Plus, with open wounds on his legs, like scraped skin from flopped practices, there was always the chance of infected wounds when hair was in the way. So Yuri knew what it felt like. 

Fucking shitty, that was what it felt like. 

But this wasn’t wax. This was glue, strong glue. Without being able to see it, he could feel his partner’s grin. Otabek grabbed the edge of the strip but didn’t tear it off. That was the fucking worst. Knowing pain was about to rain down on him, but not knowing when. Fuck this. Cursing out Otabek wasn’t worth this torture. He guessed that was the reaction his dom had in mind all along. Evil asshole. 

This time, Yuri kept his mouth shut. 

At least until the sticky film was ripped off of his inner thigh. Then he screamed. And it wasn’t a tiny, lust-filled scream, or something closer to a louder groan. It was angry and filled with rage and pain and for a moment, Yuri fought Otabek’s hold when he pressed his chest back against the bed. Yuri hadn’t even realized he arched off of it. For him, it wasn’t common to fight Otabek’s hold. But the pain was so intense, still burning through him, that he needed a deftly tweak of the nipple clamps to stop his knee jerk reaction and attack the source of his pain. 

After a moment, he was back under control. His own control and Otabek’s, who Yuri sensed was looming over him, pressing his shoulders down with muscular arms. Along with Otabek’s strong, capable body fixating Yuri’s middle. 

“MOTHERFUCKER!” 

Maybe insulting his dom wasn’t clever. Not after being punished for … insulting his dom. Yuri tensed, began to thrash a little again. That was pain he didn’t want again, and the prospect of being torn apart like that was too much. He wanted to get out, he wanted to leave, but—Otabek wasn’t moving. Instead, he made silent cooing noises at Yuri, soothing him, doing his best to ooze relaxation and trust. 

“Shhhh. I know. I’m sorry. I got you. Shhhh.” 

Yuri relaxed visibly once he realized he wouldn’t be taped again. He shivered a bit, Otabek holding him still. For a few seconds, all they did was cling to each other while his boyfriend kept apologizing in a small, careful voice. Yuri sighed and let it lull him back to a place of trust and comfort. Eventually, he nodded to indicate forgiveness, and Otabek pulled back, allowing Yuri to move again. He apologized one more time and began to caress Yuri in the way that helped him to surface. But he didn’t want to surface. He wanted to enjoy a session with his lover after weeks of not playing, and Yuri certainly didn’t feel like allowing a little flop to ruin their entire evening. 

“It’s okay. Keep going. Please. I need you.” 

Otabek hesitated in his caressing. “Are you sure? That was obviously quite the shock, and I don’t want you to—” 

“I’m not made of glass. I am, however, very horny. Please, Beka. Just continue. Okay?” 

Humming, Otabek leaned forward again. This time, he put his lips on Yuri’s, guiding them into a gentle kiss. It was less teasing than anything they did before, but as always, Otabek was correct in his assumption that it would get Yuri back into the mood in no time. He was moaning and gasping before he realized it, arms wrapped around his lover’s neck because the zip tie allowed him to spread them enough to fit Otabek’s big head through. 

When the touches returned to his legs, Yuri opened them willingly, which apparently was enough confirmation for Otabek that they were okay. He lowered himself to Yuri’s tummy and sucked a few claiming hickeys onto the pale skin. Yuri wished he could see them, but tomorrow in the shower he would and that had to be enough right now. 

Otabek really meant his apology because his lips wrapped around the stiff flesh between Yuri’s legs. He had a dancer’s body, all of him was lean, but it worked in their favor when Otabek swallowed him down with relative ease. It wasn’t like that for Yuri, but they were both okay with that, too. For a while, all Yuri focused on was the intense pleasure coiling and uncoiling in his gut. His lover knew how to play him like the most fine-tuned instrument. He wouldn’t let Yuri cum like this, but he would tease him to the edge and back, over and over, until Yuri was nothing but a pitifully gasping mess. Then, Otabek pulled back.

Some shuffling, noises of things in a bag being moved around before there was a new sensation to focus on. Something not quite cold or warm touched down on his tip. For a moment, he hung in excited suspense as Otabek smeared the unknown substance into Yuri’s skin. Overall, it couldn’t have been much longer than a second, and suddenly Yuri was gasping. Because _fuck_ , it was suddenly cold. So cold, so fucking terrifyingly cold. What had Otabek put on his dick? He worked it up and down his tip and onto the surrounding skin and Yuri writhed, trying to evade the terrible chilling sensation without fleeing from his lover. He wasn’t sure he could handle another punishment. 

That put him on edge, but Yuri couldn’t even really say why. It was just so strange, so intimate, such a special, yet numbing sensation. He whined. Otabek chuckled. Yuri sensed the pair of dark, dangerous eyes on him, assessing him and enjoying his struggle. Sometimes, Yuri was too proud to let Otabek see it. But right now, he wasn’t. He wanted this, after all. 

Another heartbeat of confusion, arousal, and repulsal, and suddenly Otabek was on him again, sucking and slurping as he cleaned Yuri’s dick. Apparently, the devil substance was edible. Yuri learned what exactly it was just a second later when Otabek crawled back up his body and moved him gently into a quickly deepening kiss. 

Toothpaste. Or rather, menthol, specifically. Yuri hated and loved him with his entire heart. He groaned into the minty fresh sensation, not caring at all where either the mouth or the substance had been just a moment ago. They were long past that.

Otabek kept touching him, played with him and Yuri hummed. His partner could make his mind and soul sing, even when Yuri wanted to scream. For a few moments, they simply indulged in each other and the fresh taste on their lips, smiling like idiots about having each other in their lives. Sometimes, playing was just that. But then, Otabek moved back and curled his fingers around Yuri, teasing him again. It wasn’t really fair. No one should be so perfect, but here he was, reading every twitch of Yuri’s body like a book and responding the way his lover needed him to, without a single word between them. 

When Yuri felt like he would die if he didn’t cum sometime soon, Otabek let go. That in itself wasn’t new. But it was not a bit less cruel than all the other times. Yuri whined to emphasize exactly how betrayed he felt, and Otabek chuckled yet again, the god damn asshole. 

Without further notice, he slipped something over Yuri’s aching dick. There was no way for him to tell what it was, just that it was tight. Tight enough to make the one thing he needed most right now impossible, and fuck. Fuck Otabek for teasing him so much during the first time they’d played after weeks. Yuri deserved an orgasm by now. He had been good, overall. Mostly. 

But Otabek was still snickering, without a doubt taking him in and feeling joy at how flushed, helpless, and uselessly horny Yuri was. Being with a sadist was both terrifying and exciting. The hand around his shaft tightened further, and Otabek moved his slickened palm up and down, up and down, maddeningly slowly. Yuri hadn’t even realized he had gotten more lube, but did that really matter? He was caught in a fog, had been for a while, and could only claw his way back out when Otabek needed him to. 

Most of the time, Yuri just wanted to stay where it was warm and sheltered. But right now, he wanted to cum, and the makeshift cock ring was keeping him from fulfilling that one simple wish—together with his lover, boyfriend, master. 

So he allowed himself to verbalize his needs. Yuri didn’t do that often. Not in situations like this, at least, but right now, he needed. And he knew Otabek knew, so if he wasn’t giving it to him, he had to be waiting for a clue. “Please. Beka, please. I need to cum.” 

“No, darling,” Otabek’s voice was heavy next to his ear. When had he moved? Yuri was so distracted by the lazy strokes of his hand. Enough to keep him on edge, not enough to carry him over. 

“Please,” Yuri wasn’t above begging, and Otabek loved when he did that. It was a pleasure for him to hear Yuri whine as he did for no one else in the world. “Please, I need to cum.” 

“Then do so.” He heard—felt—the cruel smile in the way Otabek’s words curled out of his mouth. Almost like a song. Almost like a threat, a promise, a hundred things at once and all of them were frying Yuri’s brain. 

“I can’t!” And his lover knew that, of course. After all, Otabek had put the offending object in place, keeping Yuri on the brink of release on purpose, just to milk out a bit more desperation. It was glorious and it was painful and it was what he had needed all those weeks. 

“Yes, you can.” Technically, Otabek was right. He could. With a dry orgasm, leaving him feeling empty and excited and even madder. 

“Beka, please!” 

Otabek moved away and for a moment, Yuri was scared. He was blind and bound in a world that was so obviously out of his control that he couldn’t even handle his body’s reactions. But then, Otabek’s hands were back on him and the world was warm and kind again. 

Yuri didn’t care he was being flipped like a pancake, until the nipple clamps touched the sheets, pressed against the silky material with the force of his body weight, and yet again, Yuri screamed. Otabek hauled him back around immediately. Yuri could feel his frantic hands, checking for injuries, doing everything to ensure Yuri was warm and safe in his hold as he promised when they started playing.

Once he understood what the offending objects were, Otabek breathed a sigh of relief. Yuri didn’t know what he had expected to find, though apparently this was better. But Otabek tweaked his nipples again instead of saving him, and that was too much. Yuri squirmed, this time in actual displeasure, and Otabek froze. 

“Color?” 

“Yellow.” 

“For the clamps?”

“Red.”

Otabek’s fingers immediately went into effect. “Okay. I’ll take them off. Bear with me. It will hurt again once the blood rushes back in, okay? I got you, and I’m sorry, but—”

“I know! We aren’t doing this for the first time. Just take them off!” Yuri was impatient, but a tiny voice in his head told him that was no reason to talk disrespectfully to his partner. So, with a much smaller voice, Yuri added, “Please.”

The sensation of the sticks being slowly spread open was heaven. For a second. Then, the blood returned and everything hurt even more. Burned with a vengeance, stung like a bitch, and Yuri couldn’t help but moan as he buried his shame-heated face in the bedding. 

Otabek waited a moment, then leaned down and sucked on them again, and for a second, Yuri wondered if he could transcend just from that sensation alone. The pain dulled between Otabek’s gentle lips and Yuri breathed a long sigh of relief. “Fuck, Beka. Fuck me?” 

With a pop, Otabek moved his head back, licked a broad stripe over the offended pink nipple and kissed it better. “Not yet. You’ll be gone the second I put my cock into you, and I want to enjoy this for a moment longer.” 

“Then let me look at you!” Yuri really was in no position to make any demands, but he felt such a strong need, he had to try. To his surprise, Otabek relented and opened the blindfold. His smile was almost shy, which was ridiculous when one considered what he had done to Yuri’s body in the last several … minutes? Hours? Who even knew? Yuri wanted to cup his cheek, but that wasn’t happening with his bound hands. 

“I wanted to put you back on your tummy.” 

“Go ahead, you are the boss.” 

He was rewarded with a scorching kiss, Otabek’s pride tasteable. Then, he leaned back and gently shifted Yuri into the position he had chosen. “You can’t see me this way.” 

“You are the boss.” 

He received a playful spank, something that would be a punishment for many but was praise and adoration for him. Otabek knew him so well. He even soothed the sting, then leaned forward to bite the supple flesh. Yuri loved when he left marks, at least below the collar line. At the end of the day, Yuri belonged to Otabek in every way imaginable and he wanted to see just that whenever he looked into the mirror. 

“Do you think your backside can take a little more?” 

“Don’t call it my ‘backside’. I’m not an old cassette.” Otabek chuckled and holy hell, Yuri loved that sound so much. It was such a pleasant, deep noise. “Yeah, yeah I think we are fine.” 

Otabek nodded and kissed his shoulder blades. “After that, I’m done with what I planned, so you can relax into it, okay?” 

“ _Fuck yes._ ” Yuri groaned. This was amazing news. “And you’re going to fuck me afterwards.” 

“Are you sure? Your body had to handle quite a bit and—”

“Beka?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Please.” This time, Yuri could see the dazzling smile, not just hear or feel or suspect it. Otabek’s face moved in such a soft way, the grin almost intimate, and the urge to kiss him was almost overwhelming. But then, Otabek moved and a moment later, Yuri’s ass was propped up in the air again. Yuri’s eyes tried to focus and refocus, but the world was already blurring. He looked between his legs at Otabek, saw the hair tie wrapped around his own base, and grinned. “Can I take this off?” 

His partner did it for him. 

With great interest, Yuri looked on as Otabek put a hairbrush and a leather belt onto the bed. His eyes flickered between both, hesitating just a moment, before the belt fell back into the bag and the hairbrush found its way into Otabek’s strong, capable hands. 

Basically a wooden paddle, Yuri thought. The brush was lifted and brought down onto his sensitive skin and from one moment to the other, Yuri didn’t think anything at all anymore. He simply felt. 

\----------

When he came back to himself, he was bundled in a warm, fluffy, tiger-striped blanket. Otabek radiated even more warmth behind him, kissed Yuri’s neck, and made every hair on his body stand on end. Yuri moaned into the gentle attention, rolled his hips, felt hardness teasing him where he was still plugged. 

“You promised to fuck me.” It wasn’t the most romantic thing to say when he came out of his haze. Maybe he should have tried _‘thank you’_ , or _‘I love you’_. But Yuri wouldn’t be Yuri, and Otabek wouldn’t love him so much, if he put pleasantries over both their needs.

“Did I say I’m done with you yet?” Oh. That was kind. Otabek wanted him to be able to feel and enjoy it.

“You waited for me to come back?” 

“I waited for you so much longer.” Yuri punched his sappy-as-fuck shoulder, so Otabek laughed and kissed his neck again, eliciting a soft moan from Yuri. “You know it’s true.” Of course he knew. “And I always will—” 

  
“You’re such a terrible romantic.” There was no sting in his words. Yuri didn’t want there to be. 

“I’m not sure it’s the dictionary definition of romantic to leave my boyfriend with a fire engine red ass.”

“It is when he asked for it. It also is romantic that you didn’t just fuck me. Even though I asked for it.” 

“Sorry. I am not into necrophilia.” Otabek had a point. When Yuri was deep in subspace, his body stopped reacting to external stimuli. Which meant he simply lay there like a dead weight and let things happen around him. That could be fun when Otabek worked with impact play and he stopped flinching, but it could also be dangerous for the same reasons. Luckily, his partner wasn’t one of those doms who prided himself with how much damage he inflicted. He wanted them to genuinely have a good time. Both of them. 

Which was exactly why Yuri could feel Otabek’s erection sliding around between his ass cheeks. 

“I’m awake now. You can put it in.” 

“Wow, and they say romance is dead.” There was his signature deadpan stoic stare and Yuri had to giggle. It was rare for the two sides of Otabek to melt into one moment, but sarcasm almost always worked. 

“Are you going to make love to me?” He tried to sound as if he was disgusted by the prospect, but really, Yuri loved the idea. With how softly Otabek smiled at him, he was sure it leaked into his request. 

“Is that a dare?” 

Yuri would never stop loving him. Him and the way Otabek understood his partner. “It sure as fuck is.” 

They both grinned, and a removed plug and some moments of generous wastefulness with lube later, Otabek was exactly where he belonged. 

When he slid in, Yuri gasped. He was tender, no doubt, and even if they had planned to keep it calm, he already knew he’d find traces of the night in purpling bruises over his ass tomorrow morning. Good thing skaters tended to have bruised bodies. But Otabek was so careful with the way he breached Yuri’s body, there was only a distinct sting. 

“I love you.” 

“You’re so sappy.” Yuri grinned blissfully, feeling warm and protected and full in a way no one else would ever be able to give him. He turned his head and placed small, soft kisses on every part of his boyfriend he could reach. “I love you, too.”

Otabek’s hands wandered to his chest, teased him, made him flinch and jolt in the most pleasurable way. Yuri was back to moaning instead of talking within seconds. He wouldn’t last, he knew, but he didn’t have to. Because neither would Otabek. They were made for each other and they belonged together, and all that mattered was that their bodies fit into one another with the same ease their souls did. 

This time, their movements were slow. Gently drags of skin over skin, lips over hair, squeezes and bites and gently nudges. Yuri was grateful Otabek didn’t want his body alone. Yuri was grateful—period. 

He leaned back into the embrace around his middle, allowed Otabek to touch every part of him, and when he couldn’t handle it anymore, Yuri begged silent pleas of love and adoration and _oh god, Beka, I need you so much._

When they came, it was with quiet gasps. They were surrounded by a different kind of bubble now, swimming together in an entirely different kind of haze. 

Yuri knew he was falling asleep. It was too warm, too soft, too perfect, too sheltered. But He also needed Otabek to know how much he meant to him. So he turned his head one last time and smiled. 

Otabek shook his head, eyes incredibly tiny with exhaustion and the same pleasant fatigue. “You’re a sap.” 

“I know.” Yuri grinned. “But I love you.” 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> SO THAT WAS THAT.  
> What do you think? Did you like it? Do you have other ideas on improvised toys?  
> Things I skipped in this fic are: pantyhose, clingwrap, and ropes to bind someone, leather belts to spank, ice cubes, and candle wax.
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on  
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